September 13, 2012

That's something new, selected to illustrate the latest email from Macy's. Macy's — and the shirtmaker, Ralph Lauren — are in the game for the money, so they've got to predict where the mind of the American shopper is going (and where they can make it go, with some prodding). Anyway, you read the tea leaves, I will read the fabric print.

In Feb. 2, 1977, just two weeks after being sworn in as the 39th President, Jimmy Carter delivered a fireside chat from his West Wing study. Carter, a peanut farmer from Plains, Ga., was using the power of network television to "keep in close touch with the people of our country, to let you know informally about our plans."

Your plans to depress the hell out of us. Thanks, old man.

What caught the attention of viewers that night wasn't necessarily what Carter said, but what he wore: Unlike today's era of hyper-stylized image consultancy, in which everything a politician wears is scrutinized, Carter simply wore for the taping what he had worn to dinner.

Oh, really? What was for dinner? Ramen noodles?

He asked his TV adviser and adman what they thought, and they told him to look at the TV monitor to see for himself. While Carter would have myriad difficulties in the coming years, that early high point was purely authentic. "He was folks, and folks is in," a Republican insider told TIME. "I hate to say it, but from a purely analytical point of view, I loved it."

But Carter's cozy cardigan quickly turned into a scratchy hairshirt, and he lost.

A hair shirt is a coarse garment which intended to be worn next to the skin, thus keeping the wearer in a state of discomfort and constant awareness of the shirt's presence. Such garments were traditionally worn by some Christian religious orders, along with individuals who felt penitent about certain actions or their lifestyles. The use of hair shirts is fairly limited in the modern era, but the term is often used metaphorically, which is why someone might refer to wearing a hair shirt when they perform some other act of self-imposed penitence.

Originally, hair shirts were known as cilices, in a reference to the Latin word cilicium, meaning “covering made from goat's hair.” Early hair shirts were made from sackcloth or coarse animal hair so that they irritated the skin, and later versions integrated additional uncomfortable features such as thin wires or twigs. Several characters in the Bible wore hair shirts as demonstrations of religious faith, and the practice was picked up by devout members of society and the Church. The term “cilice” is now used more generally for any object worn to increase discomfort.

It looks Versace to me. Nearly. If it were more opulent, more wild, more bold, and contrasting with more gold in it and more saturated, then it'd be exactly like Gianni Versace, come to think of it, it's nothing at all like Versace, sorry I mentioned it.

In the early days of this country, green was the color of the rich. Green paint was made from scraping the green from weathered copper, and mixing it with oil, so only the rich could afford it. Mount Vernon has green walls, speaking to the wealth of its owner.

"What does teal say? Because I've been seeing it everywhere for fall."

Teal was 80s. So that supports my point. Teal was a color that the 80s seemed to have discovered. It was everywhere, and then it was stowed away to be forgotten. It takes even longer than fuschia to regenerate as something that is new in a good way. We got really sick of that color.

I had a great 80s winter jacket that was black with trim in teal, fuchsia, and purple. It was just perfect until it wasn't.

Ann: Interesting. I was skeptical at first, but that changed when I clicked the image to see it full-size. The horses are very obvious.

Even though I'm an ex-hippie, I'd like to see some nicer clothes on people. Here in San Francisco, it seems everyone, the straights anyway, wanders around in worn t-shirts, vintage whatevers, and jeans. I have some nice Pendleton shirts that make me look like I'm wearing a tux in comparison.

And the women are holding luggage outside of an old fashioned car. Are they going on a trip with Seamus? But it's a convertible. They're gonna have to let Seamus ride happily shotgun, luggage in the trunk. I hope!

Half my wardrobe is purple. Wonder how long it's/I've been out of fashion? I've a length of purple challis in my stash I think I'll take out and use for a dress with a sweetheart neckline and flared skirt. Gold buttons on the cuffs and a shiny gold belt?

I, too, had a teal, fuchsia, and black jacket in the 80s. Ski jacket with myriad big hard metal zippers - saved my life - which I think I mentioned here before.

Come to think of it, zippers have been big lately. I don't like the way they are being used now, but I do see them everywhere.